


Bucket List

by wertstoffhof (roachprince)



Series: kindness won't save anyone: asw inspired [9]
Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: AU oneshot, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Porn With Plot, Zombie Apocalypse, allusions to deaths of other members, asked twitter for kinks and kinks i got, this is fucking filthy, yeah i made a whole universe just to write about these two fucking, 미안해 엄마
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 04:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14370828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roachprince/pseuds/wertstoffhof
Summary: Among the ruins of civilization, Jinhwan and Jiwon need to risk their lives to escape a bad place. On their way out, they leave their shame at the door.





	Bucket List

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _You and me will / die the way we lived,_  
>  telling ourselves stories  
> to make it mean something.  
> [(there's meaning as long as there's someone to need it.)](http://asofterworld.com/index.php?id=1129)  
> 

The groans are barely audible up here, but they’re not audible at all inside. The watchtower is safe, but it’s open in case they have to shoot someone outside, so you can sort of hear them up here. Every time Jinhwan comes up here, it hits him in the face at first, the noises from the undead seemingly earsplitting in comparison to the stuffy silence of their fortress. Then he gets used to them and drowns them out, and then the groans are barely audible up here.

They’re supposed to do this alone. One person is supposed to take the early night shift for five hours, then a second person is supposed to come and take the late night shift for another five. But it’s lonely and cold up here, and whenever both Jinhwan and Jiwon are up for the night shifts, they come here together. They made up an excuse by saying that one of them sleeps while the other watches so it’s technically still the same principle. It’s about vigilance, of course, about never sitting here staring outside with a rifle in your hands for too long because it’s bad for people. Jinhwan does get it, in a way.

He and Jiwon still keep breaking the rules.

Jiwon doesn’t spend Jinhwan’s shift sleeping behind him. He’s wrapped in his sleeping bag and curled up as comfortably as possible on the floor, sure, but he’s not asleep.

“I miss ice cream,” Jiwon says. Jinhwan keeps looking outside, staring into the darkness outside their walls, wild nature, nothing moving save for a few stray zombies now and then. (Jinhwan has to admit, he used to be one of those people who refused to call them that --  _ zombies. _ He said undead, he said corpses, he said biters. Until Jiwon rolled his eyes at him and told him to just use the damn z word.)

He snorts. “I can’t feel my damn toes anymore and you’re missing ice cream?”

The sleeping bag rustles behind him as Jiwon raises his head. “Are your feet cold? Do you want my socks?”

_ “No,” _ Jinhwan says, tries to roll his eyes and laughs instead. Jiwon is too good to him, always. “I was just exaggerating. I guess I don’t really miss ice cream.” Behind him, Jiwon sighs. Jinhwan tilts his head a little. “I miss… I miss Jiujitsu.”

“You did Jiujitsu?”

“Yeah. I really liked it. I guess it’s kinda weird now that the world looks like this, but I regret never getting my black belt. Not for, like, violent reasons, combat without weapons doesn’t really help me these days, but just because it would’ve been cool.”

“Oh, yeah. I’d shit my pants if I knew you’re a blackbelt.”

“Well I’m a bluebelt, so, shit away.”

“I don’t know anything about this, man. Is blue good?”

“No, not really, but it’d be fun to make people believe that.”

“I always wanted to get into martial arts,” Jiwon says softly. “It sucks that I never got to do it. We all thought we had so much time to do the stuff we wanted, and then next thing we knew, a random guy in the supermarket tries to chew our leg off.”

Jinhwan laughs quietly even though he guesses it shouldn’t be funny. “So, like,” he says, squinting through the sniper scope of his rifle to check out a movement that turns out to be a stray dog. “Do you have a bucket list?”

“What, now?” Jiwon asks back, a hoarse laugh ripping from this throat. “Not really, I mean, it’s not like I can just go paragliding next week.”

Of course, he has a point. But Jinhwan isn’t looking to discuss the bleak present. Not tonight. “Paragliding, huh?” he says instead.

Jiwon snorts out another laugh and shifts on his side. “I guess. I dunno, I was just makin’ stuff up. What about you, do you have a present-day bucket list? Anything you wanna do before the plague gets you?”

“Originally I always wanted to punch someone in the face,” Jinhwan says. He enjoys every laugh he gets out of Jiwon. “Just, unbridled force, no holding back. But I got to do that three months ago when someone tried to steal my water.”

“Good for you,” Jiwon says dryly.

It’s quiet for a bit. Jinhwan fights with himself, because now it is about the bleak present, now it is about death waiting around every corner, and what he has to say is cheesy. But maybe they need that. Anything, to make it seem worth it.

“I wanna see the sea again,” he says softly. “Some part of me is always hoping that there are still boats, anyone with a boat, and they’ll take me back to Jeju and I get to spend at least one more night at the beach.”

“That sounds nice,” Jiwon says, his voice almost as soft as Jinhwan’s. “An island in general sounds nice. I realize the shitshow is just as bad on Jeju, it was all over the news when it started, but imagine if we found a smaller island somewhere, killed all five zombies wandering around there, and then made it our home.”

“We’d starve,” Jinhwan points out.

“Probably,” Jiwon laughs. “But you’d see the sea again.”

Jinhwan hums quietly, looking through the sniper scope some more. This time it’s a rabbit. “Raid a shopping center just for the clothes,” he adds then. “That’s something I wanna do. Race through there without thinking about food or water, just grab everything I’d want to wear but could never afford a year ago.”

Lowly, Jiwon whistles through his teeth. “Now we’re talking,” he says. Then, slowly, “Find a car that still works and drive over all-empty highways at top speed. Best case scenario, I hit a bunch of zombies.  _ Absolute _ best case scenario, it’s a convertible and I feel the wind whipping through my hair.”

“What if you hit a zombie with a convertible and it ends up tumbling into the backseat?”

“You’d be sitting there, with a shotgun.”

“Aw,” Jinhwan says. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride a motorbike. There’s gotta be some of those still around.”

“Sure. You know what I wanna do? Go snowboarding again. I bet the slopes are all nice and empty.”

“I wanna get a nice haircut again.”

“I wanna find a cop uniform and parade around in it.”

“Go through a haunted house without screaming.”

Jiwon laughs. “Well, that should be easy after everything we’ve seen now,” he says. Then he’s silent for a few beats, and the laugh has disappeared from his voice when he speaks up again. “Cook ramen like my mom used to.”

Jinhwan swallows. “Find my sister again.”

“Sorry, I didn’t wanna make this gloomier than necessary,” Jiwon says and clears his throat. “Bleach my eyebrows.”

_ “What?” _

“I dunno. I bet I’d look like an alien, but ever since I heard that you can do that, I’ve been wanting to try.”

Despite the ugly weight in his throat, Jinhwan can hear himself giggle. “You already look like an alien with your natural brows.”

“Shut up.”

“Make out in a movie theater. Don’t even care if there’s no movie playing. I just like movie theaters.”

_ “Fuck _ in a movie theater.”

“Yeah. Fuck in a… or just find a huge house. Like, a villa. I had a one-room student’s apartment in the middle of the city. I wanna find one of those big shiny houses you see on TV and live in there until the zombies kick every door down.”

“Sweet,” Jiwon says, and Jinhwan tries to refocus on the darkness below them at least a little bit. He almost forgot he kind of has a task here. “Explore the subway tunnels.”

“Ride a horse.”

“Pick some flowers and arrange them into something pretty,” Jiwon says. “I had a friend who knew how to do that.”

“Means you gotta survive at least until spring,” Jinhwan says.

“Mhm. Find a star chart and learn all the constellations.”

“Ooh, find a church with a working organ and figure out how to play it.”

“That noise is gonna attract swarms of zombs, you know.”

“You’ll be there, with a shotgun.”

Jiwon laughs. “Touché, I guess. Find a celebrity and shake their hand. I mean,  _ someone _ must have survived. They’re all just like us now.”

“Do you think Psy is out there just roaming the streets, scavenging houses for canned food?”

“I hope so. I bet he’s still having a great time, too.”

“Good luck out there, Psy.” Jinhwan stares into his sniper scope some more, but there’s nothing. “Learn a new language. I don't know how much use it’d be, really, but who cares…”

“Yeah, I'm with you. A new language would be cool.” There's a beat of silence. Then, “Try knifeplay.”

Jinhwan almost chokes on his spit. “Okay,  _ what?” _ He turns a bit, which is bad form, abandoning post and all, and he expects Jiwon to be laughing, but he's just lying on his side looking up at him. “Like, the kink?”

“Yeah, the kink,” Jiwon says. “I never really considered it before shit went down, but now hot people holdin’ knives are running around everywhere and I think I’m kinda into it? C’mon, why’re you looking at me like that? It’s the end of the world, Jinan. We could be dead tomorrow. I wanna try knifeplay.”

“Are you,” Jinhwan says slowly, “Are you holding the knife or… or, uh, receiving the knife?”

Jiwon giggles croakily. “I’m  _ receiving the knife. _ I love how you put it.”

“And are you, like, bleeding in this scenario? Like how far are we going?”

“Oh,  _ we, _ huh?” Jiwon says, but thankfully keeps talking before Jinhwan can worry about the flush of his cheeks being visible in the darkness. “Nah, I don’t think I’m bleeding. Just, you know, the illusion of danger, that’s nice. We get so much real danger, and like that I’d have all the thrill and none of the actual fear for my life. It just sounds cool.”

Jinhwan snorts and turns back to look outside more with a noncommittal shrug, but he can feel Jiwon’s stare somewhere between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t you have any kink that you wanna try before you conk out?”

Oh, he does. Jinhwan didn’t think he does, but now that Jiwon has talked about it like this, he has realized that he does. Jinhwan doesn’t say anything for what feels like several minutes, even though it probably isn’t. He stares out into the void of blackness that looks like a forest if the sun shines, completely unmoving, only listens to Jiwon’s breathing and the rustling of the sleeping bag when he shifts a little. White hot embarrassment is eating into his spine, up his nape and the back of his head, and he tries to will it away.

_ It’s the end of the world, Jinan. We could be dead tomorrow. _

“Humiliation,” he says, his voice suddenly grotesque and alien in the silence of the night.

“Huh?” Jiwon says. Jinhwan sighs.

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

“Humiliation? I caught that right?” Jiwon laughs when Jinhwan nods. “Yeah, figures. You would love humiliating people. You know, it’s always the short ones--”

“I’m not short,” Jinhwan cuts in, then continues a lot softer. “Also, no. Not like that.”

“Oh,” Jiwon says, quietly. Then he says it again. “Oh. You mean, like, the other way around.”

“Uh huh.” Again, Jinhwan waits for him to laugh, and again, Jiwon doesn’t. “I think it’s a bit like what you said about knives. We’re all so high-strung all the time, I feel like I have to permanently be in control of everything around me just so I don’t die, so… So, just fully letting go and letting someone stand over me like that  _ without _ simultaneously looking death in the eye, it’s… It’s got its appeal.”

And it doesn’t surprise Jinhwan that at first, Jiwon thought he’d want to humiliate other people. Jinhwan  _ is _ sort of small and soft looking, so he’s been trying to build up a strong persona for himself, to scare people into not fucking with him, but also to keep himself motivated. He’s been as badass as he could muster these past months, because it’s kept him alive, but being like this every hour of every day gets tiring. Who knows, maybe creating a crass opposite to that could be relaxing for him, liberating even.

“You know, I’d humiliate you in a heartbeat,” Jiwon says.

Jinhwan rolls his eyes. “How nice of you. I’d happily put a knife to your throat, too.”

“Thanks, man.”

“We’d need some sorta safe word,” Jinhwan says, still staring into the dark. Some part of him is telling himself that he’s just humoring Jiwon now, this is just fun and games, he’s not  _ serious. _ But most other parts of him already know that that’s bullshit. You don’t joke about bucket lists.

“That’s easy. Zombies.”

“Bad idea. What if there’s actual zombies?”

“Okay, point taken. What about  _ Zombie Psy? _ That’d turn you off enough to stop, no?”

“Fuck. Yeah, it would. Zombie Psy’s good.”

“Glad we got that out of the way,” Jiwon says, so matter-of-factly it makes Jinhwan snicker softly into the cool autumn air. “So next time we have this shift together, you bring your prettiest knife, and I’ll, uh… I’ll figure out what to say that makes it degrading for  _ you, _ not for me.”

Yeah, that might be an issue. Jinhwan smiles. “Deal.”

“Cool. So, weird fucked up sex that needs safe words is somethin’ we can cross off our bucket lists. What else you got on there?”

Jinhwan’s smile fades off his lips a lot slower than it got there. Something is moving in the bushes below and he tenses, staring through the scope with his index hovering close to the trigger, ready to aim, ready to shoot. It’s not a rabbit this time, not a dog, either. The more it moves, the more human it looks. Jiwon falls silent, probably reading from the tension between Jinhwan’s shoulders that something’s down there. Jinhwan stares, steadying his breathing, gripping the rifle tightly, trying to prepare his body for the impending recoil.

Then the thing below looks up. Wide-eyed, it stares at their walls, up the watchtowers, directly at Jinhwan. Only for a fraction of a second. Then it flinches away, ducking and scurrying off quickly to get out of the gun’s range, and Jinhwan realizes that it wasn’t a thing at all.

No zombie.

A real human being.

Jinhwan releases the breath he was holding, and closes his eyes, just for a bit, please, just for a little bit.

“I wanna get out of here,” he says.

  
  


Rain whips against the windows, loud and hard and blurry. Jinhwan is staring outside, a crate filled with pill bottles in his arms. He can’t see much. People usually try to keep the windows clean from the inside, but they’re dirty as hell on the outside, and even the rain isn’t really cleaning them, it’s just smearing the gunk down the windowpane in an ugly beige mess.

God, Jinhwan wants to get out of here.

It seemed like a good idea, a safe bet, months ago when he was alone and terrified and starving. The building is an old hospital, which means even though there is no electricity or running water, they have plenty of beds, pillows, blankets, and medical support to feel okay in the midst of chaos. When Jinhwan first got here, all he had to do was stand at the makeshift gates outside the building, lay down his weapon of choice (a crowbar, back then; he didn’t have anything else) and tell them that he was tired and hungry and on his own, and they let him in. It was good. He met friends in here. Things were going well.

But they derailed from there.

Humans aren’t supposed to live like this. It’s not good for them. Holed up and scared, always facing imminent death, it brings out the best in some people, but it brings out the worst in others.

The people who used to run this place when the world was still alright are still running it. The ones who survived, anyway. And after a couple of months spent having the upper hand over enough people, over the entire little population of this place, Jinhwan guesses it finally got to them, and they straight up fucking snapped.

We have always put too much power into the hands of doctors, Junhwe used to say, and this is what we get from it.

Jinhwan hasn't seen Junhwe in weeks. Not since he went scavenging with a group and they came back without him.

He has to get out of here.

Sure, it's dangerous. That's what keeps most people here. They're always stronger as a group and some of the guys here -- the ones that got to finish their military service before hell broke loose -- have actual combat training, so scavenging the remains of the city alongside them feels safe.

But Jinhwan was doing okay outside on his own. Not perfect, otherwise he never would have ended up here in the first place, but not catastrophic either. And he’s learned a lot here, he could make it work out there.

Besides, he wouldn't be alone.

“Hey, you!”

Jinhwan flinches out of his trance and rips his gaze away from the window, to the rest of the corridor. One of the higher ups is marching towards him, baton already in his hand.

“What are you doing, loitering around? That crate looks like you have places to be.”

“Sorry,” Jinhwan says and readjusts the crate in his arms. “I'm on my way to the pharmacy, I just got lost in thought.”

The man squints at him, silent for just a few seconds that make Jinhwan’s skin crawl. He could take it up with this guy if he tried any shit, but then Jinhwan would be in even deeper trouble because people would find out. “You haven't been  _ taking _ any of these pills, have you?” he asks sharply, and Jinhwan shakes his head even though he wants to roll his eyes. “Huh? You been stealing drugs, kid?”

He's probably barely two years younger than this dumbass. Jinhwan takes a steadying breath. “No, sir,” he says.

The man starts coming towards him and Jinhwan thinks that if he's going to pat him down for any stray pill bottles, Jinhwan is going to throw up on the spot. But he just eyes him for a little and then walks past. “Better find your way over to the pharmacy soon, then,” he drawls into the empty rest of the corridor. “Better hope your pills are all there when I check in later.”

Holding his breath, Jinhwan waits until the guy is out of earshot. Then he releases a deep, heavy sigh.

_ Man _ he fucking hates this place.

It’s gotten violent, now. That’s just the thing. Things in here have been getting violent over the past few months, as if things  _ outside _ weren’t violent enough already. But people here felt like they had to assert their power more, and now nobody gets a say in anything anymore without looking at a possible beating for opening their mouth. Jinhwan realizes that they all have to work together to get this place to function properly, but where they were allowed to choose their own work and contribute their own ideas back when he first joined, everything is a fucking dictatorship now. You’ve gotta do what you’re told, or else.

And then people disappear. Like Junhwe. People speak their minds and the next day they’re sent outside and they never return. That is no way to run a sanctuary in a goddamn zombie apocalypse, if you ask Jinhwan. And that is no way to treat Junhwe when Jinhwan was so horribly attached to him.

Watchtower duty is when he gets to relax a bit. Partly because Jiwon is usually there with him -- Jinhwan and Jiwon aren’t … a  _ thing, _ really, necessarily, even if people are already looking at them funny whenever they climb the towers together to spend an entire night holed up there in each other’s company. It’s been platonic this entire time, even the occasional dirty conversation topics, even the occasional cuddling for warmth.

Making a pact to have bucket list sex the next time was a bit much even for them, though. Jinhwan isn’t sure how platonic  _ that’s _ really gonna be, but he’s also not sure if he really cares. It’s not like he’s surprised that it’s coming to this. If there’s one person he still trusts enough to have messy sex with in this dirty hellhole of a wasteland, it’s Jiwon. And if there are any non-platonic implications in that, then that’s fine.

Constantly being surrounded by death has made some things comfortably simple for Jinhwan.

The other reason why watchtower duty is relaxing is that nobody keeps an eye on them there. As long as he doesn’t somehow miss a horde of zombies climbing over their walls and attacking the entire hospital, he can do what he wants. And he does, because he’s sure as shit not gonna do what he  _ should. _

They want them to shoot people on sight now. That’s been a thing. Back when this place was still somehow sane, the watchtowers were to keep the zombies at bay and then open the gates when actual humans showed up. Like when Jinhwan first came here.

But if Jinhwan came here today, he’d get shot. No questions asked, nothing. A sniper rifle from a watchtower, anonymous and ice fucking cold. For people who were doing nothing wrong, who were just looking for shelter in this bitch of a world.

Jinhwan doesn’t do it. Jinhwan has never shot at a living person in his life and he doesn’t intend to, and neither does Jiwon.

It’s wrong. It is so godawfully wrong, and so he has to get out of here.

_ They _ have to get out of here.

Slowly, Jinhwan starts his way down the hall again, towards the pharmacy, where a few former nurses try their best to manage their drug supply and help people. Once he hightails out of this mess, once he leaves their walls behind and runs off without getting himself shot by whoever’s on watchduty, he’s not going to be alone out there anymore.

Jiwon is coming with him.

  
  


His days blur together between hushed meetings in quiet corners. Between his heart hammering against his ribcage whenever he steals another can from one of their many pantries. Between shoving a gun underneath one of his thick hoodies and bringing it to Jiwon so he can sew it into his backpack, between doing that two more times. Between trying to calculate how much ammunition exactly they can carry on top of the food and the water without collapsing.

Jinhwan is caught between terror sitting deep in his chest and heavy tiredness, between walking on eggshells all day and dragging his aching body over their dusty floors by night. And yet when he blinks through bleary eyes and Jiwon is grinning at him all secretively, because this is between them and them only and they’re doing good, it all seems pretty worth it.

  
  


“We’re gonna die,” Jiwon says.

Jinhwan hears it not as a prophecy, not like Jiwon honestly believes that they won’t make it. To his ears it sounds more like an affirmation of how big this is, how crazy they must be to try something this dangerous.

“We will not,” he still replies. “Alright, you ready?”

Jiwon is wearing a fuzzy sweatshirt, and yet Jinhwan can see his arms flex underneath. Or maybe he’s just imagining things. He’s been staring at Jiwon a little more than usual lately, his mind occasionally hyperfixating on his arms and his back and his fingers and his lips ever since they made a pact to fuck. But that’s fine. They’re good arms. Especially when they flex like that.

Both of their backpacks are tied to a thick rope, and they have to weigh a fucking ton, but Jiwon heaves them over the edge of the watchtower and holds on to the rope tightly. “Ready when you are.”

Jinhwan takes the rifle into his hands and points it at the watchtower next in line. It’s far away, but it’s close enough that the person up there could see what’s going on over here, if they happened to look their way.

He takes a breath and peers through the sniper rifle. They don’t. “Coast’s clear. Go,” Jinhwan says.

Slowly, Jiwon starts letting their backpacks down. Jinhwan can hear the rope chafing against his palms. If someone were to look at their tower right now, they’d probably know immediately what’s going on, they wouldn’t have to think twice to know that they’re trying to pull something here. Jinhwan can feel his blood pulsing through his temples. The person in the other watchtower is still staring straight ahead.

“Go, go, go,” he continues quietly, to make sure Jiwon doesn’t make any unnecessary stops. They cannot waste any time.

“Almost there, I think,” Jiwon grunts. “Fuck, those are heavy.”

“Technically that just means we have a lot of food and ammunition, so that’s good,” Jinhwan murmurs. Jiwon gives a strained snort.

“You’re being so optimistic.”

“I just gotta get out of here,” Jinhwan says. “Your arms still okay?”

“Peachy,” Jiwon says. “Almost there.”

_ “Wait.” _ Jinhwan feels something cold run down his back; Jiwon takes a sharp breath. The person in the other watchtower is moving and it’s fucking dark and Jinhwan can’t make out for sure where they’re looking and it’s driving him fucking crazy.

“We good?” Jiwon whispers, as if they could hear instead of see him.

“I don’t know. Wait.” Jinhwan swallows dryly. He doesn’t think they’re looking this way, but he has to be sure.

“Jinhwan, my arms.”

“You  _ said _ they’re peachy.”

“Did I fucking sound like I meant that?”

Jinhwan grits his teeth. He doesn’t want to die here. There’s a sharp pain in one of his temples. He’s not going to fucking die in this place.

The other person is picking their nose. Successful at last, they turn back towards the outside world and flick the booger overboard. For a second, Jinhwan considers shooting them from here just because they made him worry so fucking much over the contents of their stupid nose, but he pulls himself together and keeps his finger off the trigger.

“We’re good,” he says and Jiwon immediately heaves a relieved sigh. He can hear the rope against his palms again. “We’re good, go, go.”

Jinhwan hears the thud a few seconds later. Barely, but he does. The world has gotten a lot quieter, at least when nobody’s shooting any innocent people.

“Alright,” Jiwon says, “that’s done.”

He’s tying the upper end of the rope to the railing of their watchtower when Jinhwan finally moves away from the rifle scope and tries to get his eyes used to regular vision again. This was the best rope they managed to steal, and it’s gonna have to carry them both down there and into freedom later. Jinhwan doubts he’ll be heavier than both of their backpacks combined, but it still seems precarious, to say the least.

“Maybe we are gonna die,” he says.

“Better fuck me like you mean it, then.”

Jiwon has turned towards him with a grin that makes something in Jinhwan’s lower insides jump and curl. It’s this whole atmosphere, he thinks -- oh it’s Jiwon too, it’s Jiwon alright, it’s his face and his dumb arms and the way he’s here with Jinhwan in the first place. But it’s the atmosphere, it’s knowing what they’re about to do, and maybe not believing that they’ll die, maybe hoping for the best, but still knowing that there is a valid chance they won’t see the next day. Jinhwan should be terrified, but Jinhwan has lived to see many days he didn’t think he’d see in the past months, and sometimes, he thinks that the world can’t scare him anymore. It has put him through so much and it owes him this much. It owes him seeing Jiwon grin in the middle of the most dangerous thing he’s ever done, and feeling arousal pool in his groin. The world owes him that much.

“Oh, I will,” he murmurs, just to keep them talking, just to banish the silence of this shitty place at least for tonight. Jinhwan reaches out and grabs Jiwon by the front of his fuzzy sweater, pulls him towards him until Jinhwan can feel his body warmth radiate off of him. The watchtower isn’t huge, but it’s big enough for them to lie down here when they share their shifts, so it’ll be big enough for them tonight. Still it feels like a cramped space right now, almost too small for him and Jiwon and their big secret, and the knife in the back of Jinhwan’s belt.

Jiwon looks down at him and runs his tongue over his lips, and Jinhwan gets the message, Jinhwan gets what the next step is supposed to be, his stomach doing a flip he can feel right up to his throat. There’s a challenge in Jiwon’s gaze, a silent  _ You gonna kiss me or you gonna chicken out? _ and Jinhwan is  _ not _ going to chicken out. They’ve talked about this beforehand, they’re sticking to their safeword and they planned half of this through, but of course nobody said anything about the damn implications. About the implications of them fucking, or about the implications of them kissing.

Whatever.

They’re gonna die.

Jinhwan tightens his grip on Jiwon’s sweater and pulls him closer still and closes his eyes a little too hard and crashes their lips together like this is the end of the world and they have nothing left to lose.

Jiwon reciprocates immediately, his body pressing close and his lips pressing closer. They’re cold and chapped but Jinhwan doesn’t care, he hasn’t kissed anyone in so long and it almost makes things feel normal, it’s familiar and it’s gentle and it’s everything they’ve been missing. He can feel Jiwon’s body almost looming over him with their height difference and it’s so  _ soothing, _ it’s so nice to be this close and this vulnerable to someone without looking death in the eye. As Jinhwan fists his other hand in the sweater as well, Jiwon’s hands find his hips and travel upwards from there, slipping underneath Jinhwan’s jacket and then underneath his shirt, making him flinch from the cold and then almost moan from the touch alone.

For a few seconds, Jinhwan stands still and only enjoys. Both of them are touch starved, even if they touched each other in everyday scenarios before. Hands on shoulders and backs, even in each other’s hair sometimes, cuddles when they slept next to each other, sure. Those were good and important too, but this is something else, and they both needed it. Jinhwan moves his lips just barely, keeping the touch going but not intensifying it too much, enjoying what they have for now.

Then, he silently counts to three in his head. And then he moves.

Jinhwan’s fingers let go of Jiwon’s sweater and find different parts of his upper body to grab, grab him just right, then he hooks one of his legs around one of Jiwon’s ankles and pulls back from the kiss just in time to throw him a grin. And throw him to the ground.

_ “Ow,” _ Jiwon says, probably more out of reflex than actual pain -- Jinhwan is guiding him to the ground as quickly as the entire motion was, one hand now on the back of Jiwon’s head to dampen the blow, and they have their sleeping bags rolled out on the watchtower floor so he doesn’t fall too hard. Jiwon still stares up at him like he just punched him in the face. “What the fuck.”

Grin still on his lips, Jinhwan lets go of Jiwon but moves to straddle his hips instead. “I think I could have gotten that black belt if I had had the chance, don’t you?”

“I thought throwing people was judo,” Jiwon replies, bouncing back from the shock pretty quickly. Color is coming back into his face, and both of his hands are on Jinhwan’s thighs now.

“We throw people in jiujitsu too,” Jinhwan murmurs. He leans down towards Jiwon for another kiss but Jiwon bites into his lower lip instead and Jinhwan  _ whines. _ God, it’s been so long. “If we want to.”

The addition was breathless and more to save face and pretend like he can still think straight when Jiwon is dragging his tongue down the side of his neck and moving his hands up to grab Jinhwan’s ass through his pants. He has to act, Jinhwan thinks, he has to do something right now because Jiwon feels around back there some more, he’s going to find the knife before Jinhwan gets to have some fun with it and that is not how this is gonna go down.

Slowly, Jinhwan slides one of his hands into Jiwon’s hair and grabs a fistful of it, pulls his face away from the crook of his neck with an almost comical popping noise. “You know what we  _ don’t _ do in jiujitsu?” he says.

“Sit on people’s dicks like this?” Jiwon suggests, one brow cocked, throwing an obvious gaze in between them. Jinhwan just smiles and uses the hand in his hair to guide him back down, make sure that Jiwon’s head is on the floor while he reaches behind himself and grabs the knife from his belt.

It makes the most satisfying little sound when he pulls it out, and an even more satisfying one when he stabs it into the wooden floor right next to Jiwon’s head. “This,” he says softly.

A full-body shiver ripples through Jiwon, intense enough that Jinhwan can feel him quiver between his thighs for a second. Meanwhile Jinhwan is just relieved to see that he can pull the knife back out from the floor without an embarrassing fuss. Jiwon’s eyes are trained on him, but they keep flickering to the side where Jinhwan is holding the knife a few inches from his face.

“Yeah, kind of a knife-free sport, isn’t it?” he breathes, barely bothering to hide how affected he is. “Are you sure you even know how to use this? The hell are you gonna do with it?”

Jinhwan tilts his head a little and presses the flat side of the blade to Jiwon’s mouth. “First order of business is to make you shut up,” he says, carefully putting a harder edge to his voice, and feeling an entirely new sort of satisfaction when it leaves Jiwon staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. The blade fogs up with Jiwon’s uneven breaths and Jinhwan thinks that he doesn’t as much feel in power as he feels fascinated. Like he’s seeing Jiwon,  _ really _ seeing Jiwon, for the first time, like he’s already naked, stripped bare for him, raw.

“That shouldn’t be so hard, right?” he continues, tilting the knife slowly. Speech, too, comes easily to him now even though he was worried about that. They both were, he knows that. Both of their bucket list kinks demand a good amount of dirty talk and they both realized that there’s a high chance they’ll just end up making fun of each other.

But Jinhwan supposes for now, the knife is really keeping Jiwon from ridiculing him in any way.

It’s digging into his lips now, the blade too dull and the pressure from Jinhwan’s hand too light to do any damage, but god it’s beautiful. They’re plush against the dent he’s creating, and Jinhwan stares for a good few seconds, almost leans down and kisses them. But he doesn’t want to risk losing his cool if he reminds himself of how much he really likes Jiwon.

So instead, he raises the knife off of Jiwon’s lips again, lets it hover in the air between them for a bit while giving Jiwon a challenging stare over the blade. But Jiwon remains silent. Lesson learned, for now.

“Secondly,” Jinhwan continues, pushing himself up and scooting backwards on Jiwon’s body, not without making sure to drag his ass over him unnecessarily slow. He turns the knife in his hand a little, watching Jiwon with his head tilted and his lips pulled into a very small smile. “Strip.”

Jiwon opens his mouth and closes it. “It’s cold,” he protests, sudden pout on his lips almost knocking Jinhwan out of his role. But they’ve talked about this. There is something he knows, and that’s much more important than Jiwon’s pout.

“I said,” Jinhwan says, enunciating every syllable very clearly as he stretches out his arm and pokes the tip of the blade against soft skin right underneath Jiwon’s chin, not enough to pierce but enough to make him lift his head a bit, “Strip.”

The way Jiwon’s adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows is a form of art, Jinhwan thinks. He hesitates a bit more and Jinhwan has no idea if it's for show or if Jiwon really let himself fall into this game so deeply, but either way he admires it. He admires everything about Jiwon right now, especially the way his hands grab the hem of his sweatshirt and lift it, making his undershirt ride up a little too and revealing a flat stomach and a happy trail Jinhwan wants to bury his fucking face in.

Jinhwan is glad that they're doing this. Everything else that's been going on with the world kind of kept him from realizing how horribly attractive Jiwon is, but now -- now, in the silence of the night, the peace of the watchtower holding only the two of them and their ridiculous future plans -- now it hits him straight in the throat in a wonderful way.

“There we go,” Jinhwan remembers to say as he reaches out with his free hand and helps Jiwon pull the shirt off the last few inches. Jiwon is lying underneath him shivering in his white undershirt, and the slightly cruel smile on Jinhwan’s lips comes all naturally. “We’ll get you to warm up yet.”

“You,” Jiwon starts, his voice hoarse, then he clears his throat. “You strip too.”

As Jiwon's hands find back to Jinhwan’s thighs, almost confidently like they never left, Jinhwan raises his brows. “You really think you're in a position to make demands here?”

“Just your pants,” Jiwon adds, almost makes it sound like a question. His hands tug at the back of Jinhwan’s pants slightly, half pulling at their waistband and half grabbing his ass. Then Jinhwan feels Jiwon’s hips buck, barely, ever so slightly, like it could have been just a shiver from the cold, and he realizes that Jiwon really is looking for more friction already.

Sending another smile his way, Jinhwan reaches out and fists his free hand in Jiwon’s undershirt, tightens his grip until he can pull him up by it. Jiwon is almost slack in his hand until he’s halfway up and seems to catch himself a little. Tension returns to his body and then they both sit, face to face, Jinhwan staring right at him while he moves the blade to touch Jiwon’s neck again, sharp edge pressed dangerously close to his jugular this time, and Jiwon’s eyes go wide for a split second.

“I’ll strip when I want to strip,” Jinhwan breathes. “And I thought we had already established that you should shut the fuck up, Jiwon.”

The mention of his name obviously sends a shiver down Jiwon’s spine, but there’s a cocky arch in his eyebrows now. “Fine,” he says, “then I’ll keep the rest of my clothes on, too.”

“Will you, yeah?” Jinhwan laughs softly and starts dragging the knife down. Jiwon tenses as the tip drags past his jugular, over his adam’s apple and down his throat, catching briefly on his collarbone. “You think so?”

“Wh,” Jiwon starts, eyes huge staring up at Jinhwan like he’s some sort of museum piece. “What are you doing?”

He knows. Jiwon knows what he’s doing, because he gave Jinhwan explicit permission to wreck this undershirt and that’s just what Jinhwan is going to do, and he is starting to be really impressed with the way Jiwon is staying in his role. Because there’s a twist in this, the tables are going to turn at some point, but that’s mostly where they stopped making arrangements. Jinhwan has no idea when and how it’s going to happen, when Jiwon is going to turn this game around on him, and it makes him a tingly, a  _ good, _ kind of nervous.

Instead of answering, Jinhwan just winks at him before looking down at his hand twisted in the shirt. He has to admit he’s a little scared of this, he really doesn’t want to hurt Jiwon, but he tries his best not to let it show. Jinhwan has never cut through a shirt with a hunting knife and he has no idea how much force it takes, but he relaxes when the tip pierces through the fabric easily.

“Hey,” Jiwon says weakly, and his hands tense over Jinhwan’s ass, and it spurs him on to move. He grips the handle of the knife more tightly, holds the fabric up with the other hand, and then drags the blade down. The shirt opens up like a gate before him and for those few seconds, both of them are perfectly silent, only listening to the material ripping in two.

Jinhwan lets go of the shirt and pushes one of the halves to the side instead, running his fingers down Jiwon’s chest. His skin is cold and Jinhwan can feel goosebumps in his wake, but he pulls the hand back again and moves the knife instead. Almost gently, he pushes the tip of it against the dip between Jiwon’s collarbones, watching the skin give way just slightly before looking up into his face. “Down,” he says.

And Jiwon hesitates, so Jinhwan tilts the blade just enough to scrape it lightly against the skin of his throat, leaving it red but intact. Jiwon exhales and lowers himself back to the wood floor of the watchtower, and Jinhwan watches his abs contract as he goes. For a second, he thinks that this feels more like art than sex to him, until he shifts his weight and feels a hard bulge press up against his ass through Jiwon’s jeans.

“There we go,” Jinhwan says as soon as Jiwon is flat against the floor again, his chest heaving ever so slightly with his breath. He really does still look sort of muscular all stretched out like this, even though Jinhwan has no idea how he manages with the scarce food they get here. He’s not about to ask, though. Or complain in any way. “Good boy,” he adds instead, and smiles at the twitch in Jiwon’s face, the brief flex in his arms. Maybe he’s close to his breaking point. But he doesn’t seem to be quite there yet.

That means Jinhwan can push him some more. Jinhwan reaches into the pocket of his jacket and fishes out the little tube of lotion that’s the closest thing to lube they could find without fearing for their health, then he puts both the tube and the knife on Jiwon’s chest. Jiwon opens his mouth at being used like a fucking table, then closes it at Jinhwan cocking a brow at him and reaching down to pop the button of his own pants. He pushes them down just enough to uncover his ass to the cool night air, then he takes his knife again and uses it to nudge the lotion a few inches over Jiwon’s chest.

“Come on,” he says, “prep me.”

“Shit,” Jiwon breathes, his hands suddenly fumbling to grab the tube and wrench it open. “Shit, alright.”

Jinhwan is half hard at best, but the way all of this is obviously affecting Jiwon is enough to get him going. There’s still a very tangible bulge straining against his lower body every time he moves on Jiwon, and now he can actually watch his arms move to reach behind Jinhwan with his big hands and yeah, that alone sends a warm shiver down his spine. That’s good. They don’t have all night.

There’s movement behind him from Jiwon blindly spreading lotion over his fingers, and Jinhwan uses the time to lean down for something he’s been wanting to do ever since they even began planning this. The tube falls to the floor with a quiet noise and Jiwon groans softly when Jinhwan sinks his teeth into one side of his neck, then Jiwon’s clean hand grabs his ass tightly and his voice breaks when Jinhwan presses the sharp edge of the knife up against the other side.

“Fuck, Jinhwan,” Jiwon gets out, his voice a desperate moan in the back of his throat, and Jinhwan pulls his lips into a smile against the hot skin of Jiwon’s pulsing neck.

“I thought I told you to prep me,” Jinhwan murmurs, dragging his mouth down towards one collarbone, and the blade down towards the other, and Jiwon’s arms jerk into motion again. He actually breathes out an apology now and seems to wince at himself afterwards, but none of that keeps him from carefully prodding at Jinhwan’s asshole with one slicked up finger.

Jinhwan tries to relax while he works both his mouth and the knife over Jiwon’s chest. He can’t go too far down so he doesn’t slip out of Jiwon’s reach, and he also has to be sort of careful to not slice him right open up here, but it’s alright. He manages. The air around them is still cold and Jinhwan is pretty sure he just heard a zombie groan loudly down on the ground, but he doesn’t care now. He doesn’t want to care. The world has taken enough from him, and now it is his turn to relax.

Jiwon pushes his index in and Jinhwan bites into the skin just above his nipple to stifle his groan. When Jiwon doesn’t move immediately, he jerks his hips back, gets him to  _ do _ something, then he focuses back on the knife in his hand.

“I could carve you right up,” he murmurs, his lips still touching Jiwon’s chest and he can feel his breath hitching in there. Jinhwan turns his head a little to watch the blade drag over tan skin, dig in just enough to leave white dents that quickly turn red but never enough to draw blood. Even though he gets close. “I could. I guess the smell of blood would attract the undead, but hell, they can’t climb. I’d have you all to myself up here.”

“Just call them zombies,” Jiwon says quietly, though the grin is audible in his voice. Jinhwan raises his head to squint at him, but in that same second Jiwon pushes a second finger in and Jinhwan’s mouth falls open with a voiceless gasp. As his vision steadies again, Jiwon’s grin is even wider.

“Don’t you get too cocky now,” Jinhwan hisses. He leans forwards a little, partly to make it easier for Jiwon to move his fingers in and out of him. But mostly so he can press the blade up against his cheek, watch how the skin gives underneath it, watch how Jiwon’s eyes widen for a split second. “I’m still in control here.”

“Oh,” Jiwon says, the noise uttered softly, barely audible even, and Jinhwan can see it in his eyes. He sees the breaking point coming in the black holes of his pupils like a train through a tunnel, and all of a sudden he’s trying to brace for impact. “Are you, huh?” Jiwon adds. His fingers jerk inside Jinhwan, move and curl until Jinhwan is panting, until Jinhwan’s eyes flutter, until Jinhwan’s grip around the knife loosens.

The fingers slip out. Jiwon’s second hand comes up and wraps around Jinhwan’s wrist. Jinhwan reacts as quickly as he can and grips the knife again, but Jiwon is already hurling them around. There’s an embarrassing yelp in the air that Jinhwan belatedly realizes came out of his own throat, then his back hits the sleeping bag, and his wrists hit the wood floor. Immediately he struggles, but Jiwon is pressing both of his arms down and Jinhwan can do nothing against his sheer strength. For a few futile seconds, he tries to reposition the knife in his hand, trying to figure out an angle that could threaten Jiwon, but Jiwon’s fist closes painfully around his wrist until Jinhwan lets out a yelp and the knife falls out of his hand.

“You have never been in control, Kim Jinhwan,” Jiwon breathes, his name rolling off his tongue like something filthy, and Jinhwan feels a shudder run down his back. “This whole time you’ve just been waiting for me to snap, haven’t you? You think that ridiculous little knife gave you any kind of power, but really it’s been in my hands from the very start.”

“Shut up,” Jinhwan hisses, and tries to roll his eyes, but he stops halfway through because he doesn’t want to let Jiwon out of his sight. He has absolutely no idea if (and if yes, how) Jiwon planned this, but the hand holding Jinhwan’s knife wrist is the clean one, and the other one i still lubed up. So Jinhwan’s other wrist feels pretty fucking gross now, but he can’t quite bring himself to care when Jiwon lets go of him on that side and shifts to reach down between his legs again.

Jinhwan’s breath hitches. “Let go of me,” he demands, voice weakening audibly when Jiwon shoves both fingers back in at once.

“What, so you can wave that knife around again?” Jiwon scissors his fingers in and out of him now, crooking them towards his prostate only every few thrusts and it takes all of Jinhwan’s willpower to not jerk his hips down towards them. “How long did you think that was gonna work, huh? You never even dared to nick me a little bit, you don’t have it  _ in _ you, Jinan.” He leans down, down until Jinhwan can feel his breath brush past his ear, down until Jinhwan grabs for his hair with his free hand and holds on for dear life. “You don’t belong on top, baby.  _ This _ here is exactly where you belong, on your back underneath me, panting for cock like a little bitch.”

The air around them is still cold, arguably only getting colder, and yet Jinhwan feels like the sheer heat from his face should be able to warm it right up. He tries to tell Jiwon to shut the fuck up again but a moan comes out instead when Jiwon crooks his fingers again. And he’s  _ ready, _ dammit, Jinhwan feels prepared enough to stop with the fucking fingering and get a real dick in his ass, but he can’t  _ tell _ him that now, can he. Not after what Jiwon just said, so Jinhwan clenches his teeth instead and tries to keep his noises at bay, but Jiwon is ruthless.

“Look at you,” he says, coos almost, his fingers still moving, always switching between giving Jinhwan too much and not enough. “Where’d all that fervor go, huh? Were you really lying to yourself so much you actually made yourself believe you got the upper hand here? Made yourself believe you  _ want _ the upper hand?”

Jiwon pulls his fingers out and before Jinhwan can do anything at all to stop himself, he releases a whine that sounds so desperate he hopes for a second that it came from a different person, a zombie for all he cares. But Jiwon is already laughing -- it sounds almost affectionate at first, but there’s a mean, a venomous edge to it as he starts shoving Jinhwan’s pants further down his legs.

“I know, baby,” he says, his raspy voice a low rumble. Jinhwan can feel himself twitching at the mere sound of Jiwon’s belt buckle clinking, and he hates himself for it. “You just wanna be filled up, don’t you? Just need something shoved up your little hole to make you happy, I bet I could cram the fucking knife handle up there and you’d pipe the fuck down, wouldn’t you.”

“No,” Jinhwan gets out, strained, kicking his legs in a weak attempt to struggle his pants off. “No, don't-- I need--”

Jiwon looks up from where he's busy helping with Jinhwan’s pants with the most predatory gaze he's ever seen on him and Jinhwan knows that he's just sealed his death sentence.

“What was that?” he says quietly, the amusement pooling in his voice making Jinhwan's entire body burn with embarrassment. “C’mon babe, finish what you started. You were saying?”

“No,” Jinhwan says again, whispering this time, the knife all but forgotten as he presses both of his hands against his face.

“You won't be getting any dick at all if you don't tell me what you want,” Jiwon says conversationally and pulls Jinhwan's pants off. Jinhwan can feel his cold hands on his knees as he pushes his legs apart, and then flinches with his whole body when he feels one still slicked up finger tracing a line up his balls. “You keep quiet like that, I'll just give you a quick handjob and leave you up here in the cold.”

“You wouldn't do that, you wanna get off too, liar,” Jinhwan says, everything coming out in one quick breath. Jiwon laughs. Jinhwan is still pressing both hands to his face but he can  _ hear  _ the nonchalant shrug in his voice.

“Oh, I guess I'll just do it myself, jack off and cum all over your clothes so you can't put them back on without everybody knowing what happened.”

Jinhwan just gives an exasperated exhale. “Gross,” he says, or tries saying, before his voice dissolves into a hoarse moan thanks to Jiwon giving his cock one single, long stroke.

“You don't want that,” Jiwon says gently, his fist now resting dangerously around Jinhwan's base. “Neither do I. But it's all on you, Jinani. You gonna man up and tell me what you need, hm?”

Fuck. Jinhwan swallows, and the hand around his cock tightens. He takes a breath to try and stabilize himself, then another. Then another.

“That's right, you just gather up your pretty voice,” Jiwon says. He's fucking mocking him. “Better make sure everyone hears you, baby. Better let everyone in this hospital and every zombie out there hear how badly you want my cock.”

_ “Fuck  _ you,” Jinhwan says. Jiwon squeezes around him and he whimpers, his feet scrambling uselessly over the sleeping bag. He wants to test Jiwon so bad because he  _ knows  _ he's fucking bluffing, but Jinhwan still feels like his whole body is shrouded in heat. And more distinctly than that he can feel his own cock leaking precum on the patch of skin that's thankfully naked due to his shirt getting shoved upwards in all the motion. He's so goddamn hard it's starting to hurt even without Jiwon’s hand where it is now, and Jinhwan feels like he's going to  _ cry  _ if nothing happens in the next five  _ seconds,  _ so he figures maybe it's time to rephrase.

“Fuck  _ me,”  _ he corrects himself, trying not to hiccup on his own breath. “Fuck me,  _ please,  _ Jiwon, fuck-- I need you to fuck me--”

“There we go,” Jiwon says simply, and Jinhwan nearly moans at the mere realization that he's finally starting to settle in between his legs. Carefully, Jinhwan peeks past his own fingers to tell Jiwon where the condoms are, but Jiwon is already rummaging through the pockets of Jinhwan's discarded pants like he owns them.

The next seconds pass in urgent silence, with Jinhwan watching Jiwon closely and Jiwon taking hold of the back of his legs after rolling on the condom, to push his knees towards his chest before pressing his hard cock up to his hole. Then both of their voices rip through the quiet.

Jinhwan gasps and moans as Jiwon pushes in, his hands falling slack from his face to the floor, and Jiwon utters a guttural groan followed by a strangled curse almost all the way in. “Fuck,” he repeats, his voice wrecked to a gravelly mess. His closed eyes slip open again and for a second their gazes lock, until Jiwon's expression turns so dark it makes Jinhwan's stomach flip.

“You were just made to be fucked, you know that?” Jiwon says quietly and he sounds almost in awe now, and the mere statement makes Jinhwan's mouth fall open just enough for Jiwon to shove two fingers in. Immediately, Jinhwan moans around them, and Jiwon's breath hitches in his throat when he starts rocking his hips against Jinhwan's slowly. “Every-- fuck-- every part of you is just  _ begging _ for cock, you’re just a goddamn hole to fill. Look at you sucking my fingers without me even telling you to. You were born for this, Jinani.”

The last few syllables, Jinhwan’s name, end up breathy and almost voiceless because he’s pulling back now, almost all the way out. Jiwon pushes back in with one harsh movement and a deep grunt, and Jinhwan accidentally bites down on his fingers from the impact, but either Jiwon doesn’t care or he doesn’t even notice. He’s busy working on setting a rhythm, and soon Jinhwan is busy trying to breathe somewhere between Jiwon’s fingers and his own moans.

He’s close to trying to push them out with his tongue when Jiwon slips them out by himself, to support himself on his hand next to Jinhwan’s head instead. He’s looming over him now, all in his half naked glory, bare chest flushed, eyes closed and pretty mouth open. Jinhwan almost loses himself staring, until Jiwon barrels against his prostate dead-on and he chokes on a whine instead.

Jinhwan reaches up with both hands, tries to hold on to Jiwon’s shoulders, his hair, his arms, anything. But Jiwon is faster, grabs his wrists, presses them back down and then supports his own weight on them, all while fucking himself into Jinhwan hard with every sharp jerk of his hips. Jinhwan tries to complain, tries to say something, but all that comes out are staccato moans every time Jiwon slams against his ass. It’s fucking uncomfortable, his shirt pushed halfway up his chest and the naked part of his back rubbing against the sleeping bag now sticky with sweat, he’s hot but the air is still cold and it’s gross, the pool of precum on his stomach is gross, it’s all  _ filthy _ and Jinhwan  _ loves it. _

He finds enough composure eventually to start canting his hips towards Jiwon's thrusts, meets him halfway with a loud slap of their skin each time and a louder moan from his lips. Jinhwan is starting to wonder if he's being too loud, if people will hear them, if the guard in the other tower will get suspicious, if they're attracting zombies. But Jiwon is still keeping his wrists pressed firmly down, maybe firm enough to bruise, and he's still fucking railing himself into his prostate, so Jinhwan can neither pipe down nor stifle his voice with his hands. Jiwon pretty much seems to get off on it in a way, and maybe in a night like tonight that's all that really matters anymore.

Jinhwan can feel climax coming fast and hard. He's squirming, writhing underneath him mindlessly trying to get the friction to be just perfect. For a brief second he thinks he might actually come untouched like this, but a whimper bubbles up in this throat and his dick is throbbing, painfully, weeping to be touched.

“Jiwon,” he chokes out, both arms pulling weakly at his hold around them. “Jiwon I'm gonna--”

And Jiwon does let go of one wrist, but before Jinhwan can whip his hand down around himself, Jiwon wraps his fingers back around the base of his cock instead. Squeezing. Jinhwan's moan sounds more like a sob.

“Jinani,” Jiwon sing-songs, hand unmoving, hips slowing down a little. “Look at me.”

Jinhwan squeezes his eyes shut first, then forces himself to look at Jiwon. He's flushed, sweaty, pupils blown, very obviously close to the edge himself, but there's still something menacing about him.

“You wanna cum?” he asks, still driving himself into Jinhwan steadily. Thrusts are slow and long now. He's keeping himself at bay. Jinhwan swallows and nods slowly, already knowing that won't be enough, but willing to try anyway. Jiwon smiles and leans down a little, shifting inside him. “So beg for it, bitch.”

“I hate you,” Jinhwan says, and Jiwon  _ laughs.  _ The sound almost startles him, it's not like they've had much to laugh about lately, but it sounds fucking genuine, albeit downright mean. He's having fun.

And Jinhwan-- Jinhwan  _ would  _ laugh at anyone saying these things to him in any other situation, he never even  _ thought  _ he'd find this genuinely hot, he was sort of… He came sort of prepared to be very very lenient with Jiwon because the dirty talk would be awkward and they'd both be giggling about it all the time. But he's had no time to giggle. Not with his entire body strung tight, not with pure fire coursing through his veins every time Jiwon slams himself back in, not with every word out of his mouth leaving a burning trail of both embarrassment and naked longing all over his skin.

“Please,” he rasps, barely even a voice. Jiwon tilts his head at him and Jinhwan tries to clear his throat, even if it comes out as what's almost a  _ scream  _ with how Jiwon drives himself against his prostate now. “F-fuck, please-- please let me cum, Jiwon please-- I-I need to cum, please let me, please, pl--”

His voice gives out the exact same second as Jiwon's grasp on his cock changes. Jinhwan has no idea if that's correlation and he sincerely doesn't care. All he knows is that Jiwon’s hand is warm around him, suddenly wet with precum, moving up in long strokes and Jinhwan is reduced to hoarse moaning, breathless whines as orgasm threatens to crush him like a boulder. He’s completely sure that he’s going to asphyxiate for a good few seconds, the air around him too hot and too thick and his lungs barely functioning. But Jiwon drives himself in again and presses his hips flush against Jinhwan’s ass while his hand strokes up and his thumb pushes down on that sensitive spot right underneath the head of Jinhwan’s cock, and Jinhwan’s windpipe opens for a whole melody of blissful, sobbed out whimpers.

Climax comes in waves, making him spill more on himself shudder for shudder. He has no idea when exactly Jiwon finished, but once Jinhwan’s head stops swimming in loud buzzing and he blinks his eyes back open, his hips are still and he’s smiling down at him. No venom, this time. Just Jiwon looking at him like he’s the eighth world wonder.

“Hey,” he says, like they’re just coming back from something. And maybe they are. Belatedly, Jinhwan realizes that his wrists are free again, and Jiwon supports himself on the floor as he slowly pulls out of him.

“Hi,” Jinhwan just says back, hoarse, a gentle ache in his wrists and tired legs. Silently, he watches Jiwon pluck off the condom, regard it with deep consideration for a second, then flick it over the railing of the watchtower into the wild. Jinhwan is still giggling quietly to himself when Jiwon shrugs off his shredded undershirt, bunches it up in his hands and uses it to carefully wipe the cum off of Jinhwan’s stomach.

“You alright?” he asks softly, leaning down a bit to kiss the closest patch of skin, which is the side of Jinhwan’s knee. “Ya sounded pretty mad at me there for a sec.”

“I was,” Jinhwan says, trying to sit up and deciding against it. “But I’m alright. Are you? Wait, what are you--”

“I’m cleaning up,” Jiwon says and wipes down Jinhwan’s ass with his shirt once more. “Ain’t like I’m gonna be wearing that thing anymore anyway, right? And yeah, I’m fine.” He leaves Jinhwan’s ass alone finally, and smiles at him with the horrifyingly dirty shirt in his hand. “That was good.”

Jinhwan laughs. “Yeah.” He nods towards the shirt. “You should leave that up here. Make them wonder.”

“Good call.” Jiwon drops it on the floor and reaches for Jinhwan’s pants to push them into his direction again, even though Jinhwan feels no inclination to get dressed already. But maybe he should. Maybe they both should. Jiwon looks lost suddenly, and stares out into the night with his mouth hanging open. “Wow, I guess now it’s time to go, huh?”

“We can take a few minutes,” Jinhwan says softly. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he does sit up carefully now. His ass is mostly alright, he thinks. He just hates the sticky sleeping bag fabric on his naked skin.

The night is a black and silent wall directly in front of them. Jinhwan thinks he can still feel the adrenaline course through his veins from what they just did. Maybe this was a good idea.

“But then we should leave, yes,” he adds after a few more seconds. “Have freaky sex, leave this place. That’s what the bucket list says.”

“Well, we don’t fuck with bucket list law,” Jiwon says. They both take a deep breath. Then Jiwon takes Jinhwan’s hands to help him back on his feet, and they gather their things.

  
  


The groans are barely audible up here. Mostly that’s because Jiwon is revving the engine of the convertible down in the driveway after coming back from a scavenger hunt out along the highway. Jinhwan has told him to stop doing that so much, the revving thing, because they shouldn’t be wasting resources like gas, but Jiwon keeps doing it anyway.

Jinhwan guesses that’s fine. It’s those little things that keep them going.

He’s lying on his back on the roof of the bungalow they found and made themselves at home in -- it’s not the huge villa Jinhwan wanted, but it’s something. Hey, maybe it’s a start. Maybe they’ll find his villa once they inevitably leave this place again.

They’re trying to get closer to the coast, so they can look for boats. And so Jinhwan can see the beach.

The motor stops revving and Jinhwan hears a bunch of doors open and close. The sun is just setting, and he can already see the moon and some stars. They’ve been trying to learn constellations with a book they found in the ruins of a public library, but they’re both pretty bad at it. Jinhwan still thinks that it’s fun.

“Hey, babe,” Jiwon says behind him once he’s climbed up on the roof.

“Hey,” Jinhwan says without tearing his gaze away from the sky. It’s starting to get really cold lately, but some days still have enough sun to heat up the concrete of the roof and make the evenings nice like this. He wants to savor this until winter hits them full force. “Found anything useful?”

“Yeah,” Jiwon says, then something small lands on the roof next to Jinhwan with a muted clatter. Jinhwan turns his head, blinks at it, then closes his eyes and groans out a laugh.

It’s a sealed pack of condoms.

That’s fine. That’s good, really. They still haven’t talked about what they  _ are _ or whatever, but they work, they function together and the sex is good, and that’s all that Jinhwan needs. He hopes that it’s all Jiwon needs, too.

Death is still waiting around every corner. But so far they’ve managed to dodge it, time and time again. Jiwon swears it’s about the bucket list.  _ Not even Death fucks with bucket list law. _

Jinhwan’s inclined to agree.

They have to stick around at least until spring, so Jiwon can learn how to do flower arrangements like his friend. So they will. They’ll stick around for a long time.

They’ve got shit to do.


End file.
